Ink & Glory
by Chroma Gyr
Summary: [Warning: AU; Rated M as precaution] When a persistent dream demands that Kai change his monotonous life, he finds himself altering more than just his mindset; he wasn't exactly prepared for the involvement of a reputable tattoo artist & his daughter, nor was he planning on making an impact of his own. Lines are crossed. Fate is questioned. Nothing will ever be the same.
1. I

**A/N: **Hello everyone~! I'm back! Stronger than before & with some sick, new tricks, I am so honored to share this with you! Now, this tale may take some time to develop; I'm not sure yet. Please, bear with me. _Constructive_ criticism is always welcomed, and so is all other feedback. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I am having fun writing it. So let's get this party started! Chroma Gyr Productions is proud to present...

_Ink & Glory_

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I

"And _that!_"He forcefully slammed a thick, hardcover textbook on the desk in the front of the classroom, shocking the unconscious student slumped over it out of his nap. "…is why the Weimar republic crumbled. Are there any questions?" Never leaving his stance in front of the offender's desk, he scanned the room for any possible raised hands. None. _What a surprise…Not._

The student dared not to look up at his teacher; a challenge via eye contact may result in detention, more homework on top of the critical thinking questions that were already assigned, or yet another, _harder_, pop quiz tomorrow. With no favorable option, the minor kept his gaze down.

"Good. Now you know the assignment for tonight. No, you will not find the answers on Google. And yes, this will be graded."

Time was like a goddess of mercy. The bell finally rang to end the day for the students and their teacher. "Now, get out."

The crowd of twenty-four students rushed to the door, all trying to squeeze out three at a time. He rolled his eyes as he watched them all leave. It was mutual disgust, he deduced; they didn't like him and he couldn't stand the snot-nosed brats either.

Sometimes he really had to question his career choice. These little shits, "students," as he was supposed to refer to them as, were not worth a single second of the seven hours he was stuck with them. In an eleven-foot by fourteen-foot room. On the third floor of a brick building. With only one window that was permanently stuck shut.

It was the end of another day, 47 out of 180, to be exact. The room was empty of students. _Silence…finally._ Although, when he glanced at the calendar, the reminder that there were still three more days left in the week, his unexpressive face twisted into a more malicious scowl.

In his mid-twenties, Kai Hiwatari questioned why he never stuck to majoring in architecture or chose to study mortuary science; the dead never talked back and buildings were all about precision and perfection. What the hell was he thinking when he decided to seek a career as a junior high school history teacher? Well, Kai made his bed; now he has to lie in it.

He leaned back in his chair in the corner of the room, desk strategically placed on the same side as the door, conveniently next to a large, black, metal cabinet. He massaged his temples, attempting to rid himself of the second migraine of the week. It was Kai's thinking that nobody would see him in the room straight away with this set-up. After his first year of teaching, Kai concluded that a majority of the students and staff were too lazy to do much more than poke their heads in or call his name.

Three years later, that fact still held true.

Sometimes Kai wondered if it was too late to change his career. Being of-age to dip into the inheritance from his deceased grandfather, there were a plethora of options to explore. _I __**have **__always wanted to be an MMA fighter. Maybe I should go back to the gym…_

He glanced at the clock on the far side of the room. 3:36. If he didn't spend the last half-hour recovering from another battle with these monsters, today's quizzes would have been graded. With a grunt, he picked up a pen and began to flip through the pages. He kept his expectations low, even if he was merciful enough to make it multiple choice; that was more for his benefit – not having to decipher chicken scratch and blobby cursive.

_Oh? Now this is interesting… _Nine quizzes into his fourth period class, Kai finally saw the light. Not a single paper was close to being decent, and only a quarter of all his students managed to score near or barely above a 70%. But this one…was perfect. Even the extra credit was right, and it was a trick question!

_Q: It took 20,000 workers to build the Taj Mahal in 20 years. How many workers would be required to build it in 10 years?_

_A: The Taj Mahal can't be built again._

To put a 100% on any assignment was foreign to him. Just who was this student? Kai flipped to the front page and found the name at the top. _Gemma Kon. _Oh thank god it was one of his few better students. "Tch. I would've accused someone of cheating if it wasn't her."

It was a relief that _someone_ got the information. Kai wasn't unnecessarily ruthless in his teaching methods, but he was up against a student population that didn't take kindly to a teacher that had an iron fist and a steely glare. Although…this was a pop quiz. Sometimes it was entertaining to watch them struggle and fret.

But now that he had decoded Gemma's score, Kai didn't want to sour the uprising of his mod. There was time before grades were due; he'd finish them sometime between four o'clock in the morning and tomorrow's lunch hour. But now, it was time to flee this godforsaken place. He pulled out his leather jacket and helmet from the metal cabinet and threw them on his desk quite violently.

"Itching to go, Kai?"

The slate-haired history teacher peered out from the locker-like cabinet to acknowledge the second presence in the room. He nodded to greet the only ally he thought he had in this school. "Kenny."

A master's degree in information technology _and _physics, Kai could barely fathom _why_ Kenny would choose to work _here_. Was the economy really that bad? Younger, smarter, yet a head shorter than Kai, the brunette computer science teacher always claimed he enjoyed his job. _Bullshit…_

"We're barely three months into the year. You can't be that overwhelmed already." Kenny opened his laptop as he took a seat on one of the student desks.

"I'd rather don my war paint and fight in the trenches." Kai slipped into his jacket, zipped it up, and adjusted the collar. He stopped suddenly when something caught his eye – a piece of paper of an unfinished sketch he tacked on the metal door. Snagging it off the door, as it was only held by a small magnet, Kai studied the drawing. Although he was notorious for being silent, when Kai's brows furrowed together, Kenny knew something was up.

"Kai?"

"Hm?" Kai snapped out of his daze and looked to his friend.

"Is that the sketch you told me about?"

"Yeah. The dream. I had it again." He leaned against his desk, still admiring the apparition: a phoenix rising from the depths of a flaming chasm. It was the fifth time he saw it. Kai typically wasn't one to believe in the meanings of his unconscious visions, but if this phoenix was going to be so relentless, he could no longer ignore it.

"Well, you know what it means, don't you?" Kenny was still typing away on his laptop.

Kai rubbed the back of his neck; his silence was enough of a response to indicate…he really didn't know.

"The phoenix symbolizes transformation and renewal. You are moving into a new phase of your life."

Kai mumbled, "Moving into a new job is what I _wanted _to hear…"

"That may be," Kenny continued, "but based on my research, there is also the possibility that you are being haunted by your past."

"The only thing that's haunting me is this place." The slate-haired man stuffed the small, organized pile of papers and folders into a black backpack and threw it over his shoulder. "That said, I'm out of here. See you tomorrow, Kenny." Kai picked up his helmet and left. He trusted Kenny to close the door to his classroom on his way out; it was locked from the outside anyway.

Whether it was deliberate or not, Kai left the drawing on his desk. Curiosity getting the better of him, Kenny went to examine the incomplete piece. It was obvious that his friend was no artist, but he clearly put some effort into it; the drawing was merely the shadow of an outline. To anyone else, this may not appear as much, but the computer whiz could see this was indeed very valuable to Kai.

Kenny put the sketch back on the desk; he knew his rather serious co-worker well enough to know that if he wanted to keep his buttocks attached to the rest of his body, then the brown-haired teacher would return the item to its rightful place.


	2. II

II

_Renewal? A new phase in my life? I doubt anything will change…_

Kai maneuvered his motorcycle through the busy city streets. He wanted to think.

_And what's left from my past to disturb me? Heh…how's that for irony – a history teacher haunted by his past._

He passed the turn onto his street; there was one place he knew would offer the best corner booth and a fresh cup of black coffee – the prime choice of a place to think. A hole-in-the-wall café with an indistinguishable, dilapidated sign, it was his favorite escape. Rarely were there ever more than four other customers scattered about; the food beat every other café and dive bar in town, and it didn't even take three visits before the small team of staff deemed him a regular and had his order memorized like it was their motto.

Kai parked the motorcycle just outside the front of the coffee shop. Even during the rising evening hour, the one-way street was quiet. He removed his helmet and quickly ran his fingers through his hair, confirming that it kept its perfect shape when Kai caught his reflection in the café's large, front window.

Once inside, he was instantly greeted by the welcoming smell of fresh coffee and…were those apple turnovers? The waitress he walked past on the way to _his_ booth gave him a polite smile, despite that he didn't quite respond to the greeting.

Kai sank into the worn cushion of the booth seat, never bothering to take off his jacket; there was too much swimming through his mind. He never was the kind of person to question himself in the past, so why now? Kai had to admit, this was the first year he truly _regret_ his career choice; every year prior, he passed it as strong toleration and stronger alcohol. Wait a second…

_Did I leave my flask in my desk?_ For a moment, he panicked. Like lightning, his hand quickly gripped the front pocket of the backpack beside him. Feeling the familiar, square shape, he relaxed; the last thing Kai wanted was something stupid to land him in a story on the evening news…even though bringing a flask full of whiskey on school property in the first place is stupid.

"The usual, pal?"

It seemed to be the only way to get Kai's attention was by interrupting his silent musings. The history teacher shifted his gaze from the view of the street through the window to the young waiter beside him. "Yeah. Thanks Max. I'll take an apple turnover, too."

The young blonde chuckled. "Whoa. Not used to hearing you change it up. Nice choice." Max gave him a thumbs-up before walking off to fulfill Kai's order.

There was that word again – change. Was even his life so tired of the steady, monotonous ways that it was forcing a call for something new upon its master? Kai shook his head; he read too deep into that. _Or maybe not…_ The slate-haired man recalled the phoenix. He could see it so vividly – its regal, crimson feathers and glorious wingspan, the call it would emit was brimming with confidence and valor, and its piercing gaze…it felt as if the great winged creature was trying to fuse his soul with its blazing spirit.

Actually, the more Kai imagined the sight, the more he came to appreciate the dream; he would almost go so far as to welcome it again, like a familiar friend.

"Hot, black coffee and an apple turnover, fresh out of the oven. I might just freak out if you ask for sugar." Max placed the items in front of Kai.

His customer smirked. "You'll freak out when you're running out of time on that paper about the Crimean War."

Max was currently an undergraduate student at the nearby university, close to finishing his senior year. No matter how many times Kai tried to talk the blonde out of a dual major in history and education…well, mostly the education part, but regardless, Max was determined to finish the program. Kai gave him credit for pursuing something he seemed to be interested in, and genuinely good at; the student was almost an inspiration to the teacher.

"Yeah, I know" Even still, Max smiled honestly. "You'll still take me on as a student-teacher next semester, right?"

"Only if you finish that paper without begging me for help and pick up that grade in your Education Theories course. I teach enough underachievers." _I should have been a goddamn dentist. It's like pulling teeth._

"Alright, alright. You drive a hard bargain, Kai. But if it means that you'll take me under your wing, it'll definitely be worth it."

"Ass-kissing will only work for so long, Max. You're lucky it works today."

The waiter laughed. His pep was almost too much for Kai to handle. _Kid really shouldn't be working in a coffee shop._ Regardless, he respected Max's enthusiasm and it was a boost to his own ego that someone looked up to him as an instructor. _I must be doing something right._

Leaning back in his seat, Kai finally relaxed. He brought the warm mug to his lips and felt the steam ghost across his flesh. Taking a sip, he savored the strong flavor of the coffee – dark roast, brewed to perfection. That alone should be enough to bring in more business, but Kai was thankful for its current quiet nature.

Kai set the mug back on the table. It was the moment of truth to see if even the smallest change would be fruitful. He picked up a fork and cut into the still-steaming pastry. The delicate, crisp sound of the flaky dough breaking open was the prelude to a blissful delight. Kai put the forkful of turnover into his mouth, never minding the slight burn from the hot food.

It was perfectly sweet – real apples, not of the canned variety; the hint of tartness gave the filling a pleasant balance. Just crunchy enough to shell the flavorful center, and chewy enough for him to take the time and savor every bite.

Kai found very little in the world that could win him over. But this little indulgence…for the seven minutes it took him to finish it, Kai thought of nothing. There was not a single care for anything; even the fact that someone had chosen to sit at the booth just behind him, when the whole seating area of the restaurant was open, could not shake his moment of serenity.

"Heh…I really must be changing." Kai blinked slowly and sipped his coffee.

The figure behind him rose. Kai barely gave it a fleeting thought until the person stood next to him. The teacher still gave whoever it was no attention.

"If you're really looking for a change, I might be able to help." The person, who was definitely male, judging by his voice, slid something on the table and left him. Kai took one more second to listen to the mystery man walk away.

"Johnny, I'm taking off. Don't burn the place down or you'll answer to Oliver instead of me."

From the kitchen in the back, a response was yelled through the window behind the service counter. "Go give someone Hep-C, will ya? I got this!" The assumed cook seemed quite irritated.

The man's calm demeanor never faltered. "I'll give _you_ Hep-C next time you come in for work if you don't cut the crap. Just chill out, dude." With that, the café's front door opened and closed.

Kai chuckled quietly. The banter was the most amusing argument he heard all day. He took the last sip of coffee and finally looked at what the unknown person left him.

It was a business card, and the "business" perked up Kai's curiosity.

_Tattoos by Ray_

_Custom Pieces & Cover-Ups_

_Experienced & Professional_

_Located at: The Tiger's Den_

Kai had heard of this place before and could recall passing by it once or twice when he ran errands. Sure, on weekends he would paint striking, blue shark fins on his face and trade in his tie for a white scarf, always hoping none of his students would recognize him as he wandered through the night. But maybe…it was time for Kai to take his physical appearance to a different level. Change could go beyond a difference in just the way he thought.

**xXx**

The walk to the shop wasn't long. Although, now that there was a noticeable chill in the air and the sun set much earlier in the evening, it seemed to take longer. _Maybe looking into a little four-door sedan wouldn't be such a bad investment._ He pulled the collar of his jacket closer around his neck as the wind swept across his skin and caused his jet-black hair to sway.

Upon arriving at the establishment, he saw the lights were off and the security gate in front of the door and windows was locked down. _Lee must've gone to get her…we really need to staff this place better. Can't afford to close more times a day than we open._

With a calming sigh, he drew a set of keys from his pocket. The gate rattled obnoxiously as he pulled it up before continuing to unlock the front door of The Tiger's Den.

This was his second home. Small, cozy, and personal, it was a little piece of heaven away from the bustling city outside. He flicked on the light switches and turned on the custom OPEN sign; it was a design of his own creation – an LED border that swirled like a tribal patters and red lettering, enhanced with an Asian style font. Sometimes he wondered why he chose to add symbols of the Japanese language below it, despite him being a native of rural China.

The lights that lit up the rest of the floor emitted a warm glow, revealing the tan-colored walls and dark, cherry wood floors. There were scrolls and paintings tastefully placed on the walls. The artists' stations were sectioned off by bamboo room separators, giving clients a sense of privacy; each was stocked with a colorful array of inks, gloves, and other standard supplies, neatly organized on the black desktops and in the drawers. In total, there were five tattoo stations – three on one side of the room, and two on the other. _Another thing to add to the to-do list: invite more guest artists._

He was one of the two full-time tattoo artists and co-owners. While it had its perks, sometimes it wasn't always the high life. Long hours, variable clients, the pressure to build a _good _reputation, and in an industry that required as much precise maintenance and quality care as it did talent, it definitely was not for everyone.

The bell above the door rang while he had his head below the front reception desk. His first client of the night, a young woman, timid as could be, walked in. She was well-dressed in a school uniform, and her silky chestnut-colored hair fell loosely over her shoulders, which complemented her fair complexion and green eyes.

He smiled courteously as he welcomed her into the studio. "Hello."

"Um…d-do you have time for walk-ins?" The young girl's voice was less than a step above a whisper.

After a quick flip through the appointment book, he nodded. "Plenty of time. Now, what is it I can do for you?"

She pulled a folded-up paper from her purse and presented it to the artist. "I'd like to have this done on my shoulder. I-in color, if it's possible."

The picture was a clean pencil drawing of four lilies assembled in a flowing line with subtle accents of vines placed around them. He appreciated the skill of whoever drew this original piece.

"Absolutely. Just give me a couple minutes to trace this and set up, then we'll get started. In the mean time, make yourself comfortable. I'll call you over when I'm ready." He handed the girl a few forms to complete while she waited.

Sitting at the light box down a hall in the back portion of the shop, he inhaled a deep, meditative breath. _Alright, Ray. Time to focus._ He switched on the box to illuminate the page, clicked his mechanical pencil twice, and began to trace. It was a quick process – one he had done hundreds of times before. Ray only hoped the girl would be able to sit through it; judging by its size, it would take a few hours to fully complete. _And why do girls always want flowers?_

When the stencil was complete, he brought it over to his station and began prepping the area. Soon, he was ready. Ray prayed his client was, too.

He called her over and politely asked if she would remove her jacket and button-down blouse, hoping she had a camisole or something underneath it. The girl obliged and partially undressed. Knowing where the tattoo would be placed, she slipped her arm out of the thin strap of the tank top she had on underneath her uniform, and then laid face-down on the padded table beside the work desk when he instructed her to do so.

Ray always made it a point to put on a clean pair of gloves open each set of sterile tools in front of his clients. This girl was no different; she looked nervous enough as-is. "Are you ready?"

"Mhm."

He placed the buzzing needle to her skin to start the outline, but instantly stopped when he saw her face scrunch in pain. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just my first tattoo. I'll adjust to it."

"Ah, I see. If it gets to be too painful or you feel like you're about to pass out, let me know and we'll take a break. This is a big piece for a first tattoo."

She visibly relaxed, telling Ray it was okay to continue his work. _I remember my first tattoo…Lee never finished it because I was too much of a chicken shit to sit through the pain of a rib piece. Then again…it probably would've looked more like a centipede than a scorpion._

Although he didn't have an excessive collection of his own ink, Ray was content with what he had so far – a solid black dragon on the back of his left calf, the Latin phrase _"Aut viam invanium aut faciam"_ scripted across his chest, that blasted, unfinished scorpion on his right side, claw marks on his right bicep, and finally, his pride and joy, a white tiger on the left side of his back.

But just recently, he felt an important piece was missing from his skin. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. There was nothing Ray could think of that was of any significance; still, it was bothersome. _Draw yourself back in, man._

The girl quickly warmed up to Ray as he asked her questions, just trying to start small talk. Even though he was still completing the tattoo, he found it to be a little victory when she said Ray was highly recommended to her by a friend. He found her courage admirable for walking into the shop by herself to get her first tattoo. The raven-haired artist was genuinely patient with his new client, despite having to take several breaks from working while she recovered from the pain.

She later told him about where the drawing came from and what it meant to her – how it was from one of her mother's collection of sketches, mostly inspired by her children. "I know she would love this. She loved all kinds of art."

"Even stuff like junk art? Man, your mom must've been pretty open-minded."

She quietly laughed and settled her head on her arm. "It's funny...no matter what kind of medium she exposed me to, I never had the knack for it. But she never discouraged me from finding a passion of my own."

Ray felt a pang of sadness; he only hoped that he could be as much of an influential parent, in the positive sense. _Speaking of which..._

It was almost 8:15 and the skies were completely black for the night. The tattoo was nearly complete; only a few minor details called for his attention. Throughout the session, Ray occasionally glanced at the door. An hour ago, he was starting to lose focus and eventually stopped looking toward the shop's entrance to concentrate on his work.

The bell above the door rang. His amber eyes darted to the source of the sound. "It's about damn time you showed up."

Entering the shop, Lee, Ray's childhood friend and business partner, set a bag with containers of food on the front desk. "Sorry. I had errands to run and we stopped at that new Mexican grill to get a bite to eat. Then Gemma reminded me that you need to eat too, so we brought a doggie bag for you."

Behind Lee, a young girl, still a child herself, followed inside. She ran toward Ray and came to a quick halt when she saw him still at work. When he lifted the tattoo gun away from his client, the girl threw her arms around his neck. "Hi Daddy!"

She looked so much like Ray - the golden hue of her irises, silky, black hair, and even the slightest point at the tip of her ears was a natural characteristic inherited from her father. But what set them apart were the natural pink highlights in her hair and more rounded facial features. As beautiful as his daughter was, Ray saw the most painful reminder in her smile. _She looks more like her everyday..._

Nevertheless, Ray couldn't hold himself back from smiling. He kissed the top of his daughter's head, unable to return her hug at the moment. "Hey kiddo. Give me a sec to wrap this up, alright?"

She stepped back and gazed at the tattoo. "Ooh...it's so pretty!"

The client turned her head to look at Gemma. "He did a good job?"

Gemma beamed. "Are you kidding? My dad is the _best_ tattooer there is!"

It was a proud father moment for Ray; his kid knew how to sell. _She wants something. This kind of praise doesn't come without a price._ He put the final accents on the flowers. "And we are done!"

The client slowly got off the table, stiff from being in one position for the past several hours, after the artist cleaned off the stray smears ink from her shoulder. Ray led her to the floor-length mirror on the wall; he held up a smaller mirror to her face while her back was reflected in the larger one. "Well?"

She gasped quite audibly as tears started to well up in her eyes. "It's beautiful. You have brought my mother's artwork to life." The girl was nearly beside herself in complete awe.

Each lily was a different color - soft tones of red, blue, purple, and orange - with light shadows beneath them for a more dimensional effect. The vines were deep shades of green, which made the flowers appear brighter and more vibrant. Even the smallest details, such as the texture of the components, were made to appear photo realistic. It was another job well done.

After covering her tattoo, Ray gave her verbal aftercare instructions, as well as a typed copy. The client thanked him profusely and left a generous tip before she left. With a yawn, he began the clean-up process. "We gotta hire a shop hand, Lee." This was the part of his job that was least favorable.

Lee made his way toward Ray's station. He had to tell his friend what was on his mind. When Gemma saw the sullen look on his face, she knew to back off; Gemma was completely aware of what Lee was going to say. The girl picked up her backpack and took a seat on the couch in the waiting area to start her homework, out of earshot.

Ray glanced up from disassembling his machine. "Is there a reason you shooed my kid away?"

"She knows what it's about."

"Well? Go on. Spit it out, Lee."

The black-haired tattooist hesitated. He would be opening Ray's old wounds that took years to heal. "Tala's back in town."

His breath got caught in his throat. A fanged tooth nearly pierced his tongue, and an unpleasant chill crawled down his spine. Ray was frozen in place; his eyes narrowed into feline-like slits as he stared at the dismantled machine in his hands, barely able to process the last four words Lee said.

This really wasn't his night.

**A/N:** _Aut viam invanium aut faciam_ translates into "I shall either find a way or make one."


	3. III

**A/N: Hello readers! Thanks to everyone who gave me great feedback so far & thanks to all who favorite/followed this story, as well! I estimate that by the 4th or 5th chapter, everything will pick up speed, so I apologize if it still seems slow; I can't write fast enough. But enough babble. Enjoy~!**

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III

Department meetings were never fun. All they ever consisted of was bitching and moaning about anything _except _the subject matter. _Just remember, you get paid to go to these things. _Kai tilt his head down and closed his eyes as he leaned against a wall in the conference room, arms crossed over his chest. Regardless of being an adult, though he seriously questioned the mental age of his co-workers, Kai found it pointless to bother "fitting in," even with the figures that represented the school's history division.

He was trying to keep his cool, being the only male in the room, while listening to the two women of the history department gossip about the affairs between staff members. They quietly giggled over the rumors that made their way through three floors, about thirty classrooms, several offices, gymnasium, and library. God only knows what was said and done in the bathrooms. He had no desire to know. But sometimes Kai wondered what they said about him. Not that it mattered; they were only words. _Then again…when was the last time I got laid?_

The door the conference room squeaked as it opened. Kai snapped one eye open. The head of the history division, Robert Jürgens, strode in proudly. For as long as the slate-haired teacher had been employed in the district, he respected Robert as a leader; but Kai was put-off by his superior attitude and the constant challenges Robert aimed at him. In the education system, they rarely stood on the same side.

Robert stood at the end of the table. His face was always stoic and stern. _For shit's sake, even I crack a smile every once in a while, just to freak them all out._ With excellent posture to match his "noble" persona, there was no denying that the man was as straight-laced as they come; even the way his amethyst-colored hair was styled said something about that "knightly" presence.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I'll try to keep this short."

Already, Kai tuned out the discussion – something about creating higher standards for the students' course competencies and more successful learning outcomes. _Whatever…_

He let his mind wander elsewhere. Since receiving that business card, Kai seriously contemplated the idea of having a permanent mark on his body to stand for something. His "war paint" was one thing, but a tattoo was something Kai couldn't wash off at the end of a night of wandering. _Wouldn't stain my pillow or make me look like a fucking Smurf in the morning._

He tried his hand at drawing the phoenix again last night; the frustrations of not being able to convert his vision into a visible piece of art was aggravating – not any better after downing multiple shots of Jack Daniels, thinking the influence would increase his creativity. That was the idea, only after killing half the bottle in an hour. It was a salute to the depressing realization that he was stuck in a rut that gave Kai a reason to finish the night with an excessive amount of high-quality vodka.

"Kai, I'm sure you have something to say." Robert was trying to catch him off-guard. He smirked, quite positive that the slate-haired was not paying attention.

"You know what I'm working with. I don't even think throwing the little assholes in the Russian Gulag would change their ways. Although, I'd like to see that happen. Some frostbite might actually teach them to grovel." Kai barely turned his head, but his muted wine eyes were locked with Robert's. A work day that was twice as infuriating as it normally is, plus a relentless hangover, equaled an easily provoked, self-proclaimed dick.

He heard the ladies huddled at the corner of the table whisper about his personality.

"No wonder he's single."

"Wouldn't surprise me if someone filed a restraining order against him."

Kai didn't find it particularly flattering when they used his heartless flare-up to gauge how good he was in bed. Surely, Robert heard it as well.

It was another half-hour before an end was in sight. The female teachers scurried out of the conference room, and with only the men left, silence rolled in like an evening fog. Kai shoved his hands in the pockets of his navy slacks; he started making his way out.

"The Russian Gulags…Pardon the pun, but that's quite cold."

"I'm glad you think so, Robert. Would you agree with me on the subject of child labor, too?"

The division head smirked again. "I expect nothing less than such strong, albeit harsh, opinions from you."

Kai walked past his co-worker, taking Ray's business card out of his pocket. "That's oddly out of character for you to complement me. So before you propose a date for drinks, I have other business to attend to." He stepped just past Robert to leave.

The violet-haired teacher caught sight of the card in Kai's hand. That simple design was familiar to him – its black, glossy background and the golden, predatory tiger's eyes. He'd know that trademark anywhere. "Kai, I know you have a mean streak, but I never thought you were into tattoos."

He could have simply ignored Robert. _But why crush the poor bastard?_ Kai held up the little advertisement. "Like you know anything about this?"

Robert's prideful stance was a test for Kai's tolerance. "As a matter of fact, I do." He loosened his grey, patterned tie. "I was a client of Ray's."

Kai cocked an eyebrow, eyeing him suspiciously. "Is it really relevant?"

"Only if you're looking for good work." He undid the top half of the buttons on his burgundy shirt. Robert wore nothing underneath. Pulling the material aside, he exposed a tattoo on his left pectoral. It was an emblem of his family's coat of arms – something Robert always made a point of educating his students on.

Primarily red and light grey, the background was bold filigree, with twists and a flow that laid out a rectangular shape. Atop the ornamental decoration, there was the helmet of a knight's armor that crowned a white banner; the black griffon on the material illusion stood out most of all. Despite being a few feet away, Kai could see the details. The lines were perfect – neat, precise, and clean. The colors were vivid. He had to acknowledge that the piece was remarkable.

"I would not have chosen anyone but Ray. He is truly a master of his art. I only had a faint photograph for him to follow."

Normally, the cold-toned man would remain skeptical of anything until he had the proof in his own hands. However, this made it clear to Kai that Ray just might be the man for the job. _Like a fucking match made in heaven._ Robert was too noble to lie, especially when his family crest was involved; he took that honor way too seriously. Still, Kai could not fully place his trust in the potential artist based on one tattoo.

After readjusting his shirt and tie, the department leader collected his files and exited the room. "Kai, this will be the one time I ask you to take that chance and make a change. Make yourself happy for once."

_Am I really that obviously miserable?_

It was late in the evening before Kai could leave the school behind for another day. He hated to admit that Robert made a valid point – he should make himself happy, because at this rate, it wouldn't just be handed to him.

Kai pulled on his helmet and then started his motorcycle. The sleek machine came to life; its engine's growl had the ferocity to match its stylishly aggressive body. A matte, jet-black color was the base, accented by sharp, polished, electric blue streaks; it was the one of the few things he truly treasured. Specifically built to his custom request, he couldn't have found a better way to spend money than on his BMW S 1000 RR.

He hunched over his motorcycle and quickly revved the engine. The sound was like a favorite song, and on nights like this, Kai would miss this machine's power when he would have to store it in the garage for the winter. Dusk already beginning to settle into darkness, Kai felt at-ease; he took pleasure in blending with the shadows. The front parking lot was nearly empty.

That feeling of being left to his own devices was as much of a comfort as it was a subtle reminder of his "loner" status. He shook off the oncoming negative emotions and set his sights on the lot's exit.

Kai took off like a bullet straight out of the barrel of a gun. The rear tire screeched hellishly against the pavement, leaving a hot streak of burnt rubber in its wake. Rush hour was already in full-swing. Cars and trucks filled every lane; it was an everyday risk for Kai, three seasons out of the year, to ride instead of drive. Pulling up to a line of traffic, he contemplated being a daredevil. Would that could as a component of change – acting out like a reckless, wicked demon? _Hell yeah._

He revved the engine once more. Careless of the consequences, Kai wove through the endless sea of vehicles. The immediate rush of adrenaline pulsed in his veins. Oh how quickly he was becoming _addicted_ to the lively sensation! It was maddening and Kai _loved _it – loved how it fueled the illogical and insensible part of his brain.

But he had to force control upon the euphoric feelings before an accident resulted from all this. The man wouldn't give his behavior a second thought if he would be the only one at risk. Kai still had a conscience. He _did _have the capacity to feel guilt; it was one thing to make his students miserable, but he could never put someone in harm's way. _That's asking to be put on suicide watch in prison._

The traffic light just turned red as Kai slowly halted at the lines of the crosswalk. Through the smoke-tinted shield of his helmet, he scanned the area; when he spotted a cop car parked on the corner of the next block over, Kai huffed. Although he had no police record, despite his cold, sometimes downright nasty demeanor, the slate-haired didn't exactly appreciate the authority figures in this area. It was another rumor that spread around the school when he first started teaching – he'd done hard time and that explained _so much_. It was a fallacy that still made him chuckle when he recalled the thought.

Noticing that the car was empty, Kai relaxed slightly. Sympathy gnawed on his gut when he saw a uniformed officer verbally giving a young man the letter of the law; Kai was close enough to see that the cop was aggressive, based on his rigid body language and the fact that he just wouldn't let him go. _Another poor bastard that's a victim of society's sworn "protectors."_ He couldn't help but to be caught up in watching the scene. The officer outstretched his arm to bar the man from walking away. Kai was too far away to see faces, but he was certain of the citizen's irritation, even if Kai could only see his back. The cop was harder to read – wearing a pair of black aviator sunglasses. There was something corrupt going on; Kai was so sure about that, too, and it only made his dislike for the police force grow stronger.

When the light turned green, the motorcyclist wasn't so quick to move. An irritated cab driver, right behind him, laid on the horn. If there was one thing he could live without in the city, it would be the hoards of taxis that wanted to chew him up and spit him out. _Like I really care._ Burning rubber was a much better idea than just flipping off the angry driver. Kai was in the mood to just piss people off. Gunning ahead of the traffic, he made a mental note to order new tires later tonight.

xXx

The Tiger's Den was relatively quiet, minus the sound of a tattoo machine buzzing in the back corner of the shop. Lee was too focused on his current client, entirely ignoring the ringing bell above the front door. Only when he craned his head up to refill the gun's ink reserve did the Asian tattooist see the incoming customer. "I'll be with you in a second."

"Yeah, no rush." Kai wasn't expecting to walk into the parlor and be ambushed by its serene nature. The teacher had his hardened persona resonating clear as day. He anticipated walking into a dimly lit, dingy, back-alley hovel, with the walls covered in flash art and a meaner-spirited, punky receptionist manning the front end. Kai almost wanted to go back out to re-read the sign, just to make sure he didn't walk into a spa by accident. For taking a chance on something that could be a permanent modification, the pristine condition and calming nature of The Tiger's Den was a good indication for Kai to go through with it.

He watched as Lee put the machine down and mutter something to his client. While snapping off his gloves, the black-haired artist stepped over to the desk. "Sorry about the wait. I'm the only guy on the floor right now and I've got a dude coming in for his irezumi in half an hour. So unless you're looking for something more than barbed wire around your arm, you might wanna reschedule."

Kai took it as a nicer way of him saying he's too busy to work with the potential customer tonight, but he wasn't here to pick a fight. "Short staffed?"

"Ha! You've got no idea." Lee crossed his wrapped arms over his chest and shifted his weight. "Ray would help ya, but he left almost an hour ago for a pack of cigarettes. Starting to think he ditched me for the night. The ass is probably trying to teach me a lesson…" His face morphed into an annoyed scowl.

As curious as Kai was about that last bit, there was no time to play detective. "That's who I was looking for anyway. Does he have any openings this weekend?"

There was a brief silence while the shop's co-owner flipped through the appointment book. "He's free just about all weekend. Got something in mind?" Now Lee was the one who was curious.

The slate-haired provided him with all the details he could summon, which didn't take much effort; the faintest thought of the creature ignited a fire in his soul. He handed over the sketch, apologizing for its pitiful quality. From that moment, its formation was placed in Ray's hands. And at six-thirty on Saturday night, the phoenix would emerge from its holds of ink and needles, spreading its wings across Kai's back.

* * *

**A/N: Now that it's summer, this is just a gentle reminder to share the road & watch for motorcycles. d^_^**


	4. IV

**A/N: **My dear readers! Thanks again to you all for your interest in _Ink & Glory_! I'm having a lot of fun writing it. First thing's first. A couple shout-outs to **Oragne Spartans **and ** KaiIvanovai **for their kind words. Onto other business; I was concerned about the length of this chapter. Realizing that I was going a bit overboard on some of the detail, I've split the idea for this installment. So it'll still appear slow, but the added detail enhances the story as a whole. But in any case, happy reading!

* * *

IV

Restless. Mind wracked with bad memories. Ray spent years trying to do better for himself – for his daughter. This was more than a wrench thrown into his life. He groaned quietly and leaned back into the worn-out couch. The tattoo artist stared at the ceiling blankly. How many times had Ray looked at the widening crack above and promised himself he would fix it? _Too many…_ How many times did he say he'd never fall into another mental trap? _You can't blame yourself for this one, Ray._ If he could, he would pile his problems alongside the bills; one pile of everything was bound to fall sooner, easier, and would probably make a bigger mess of disorganized chaos.

He wanted to be angry. Ray wanted to be _furious_ at that redheaded bastard, as well as himself. The neko-jin could do everything in his power to avoid that nightmare from his past, but that wouldn't be enough; not only did he have to protect himself, but Gemma, too. If Ray had a dime for every moment he felt like a bad father, he'd be a rich man. He found it to be an impossible task to forgive himself for unconsciously letting his little girl to be exposed to such horrors. The artist was proud of her strength and courage, but sometimes he wondered if he should have done a better job at making sure she was okay, even though the very last thing Gemma would remember that jerk by happened a long, five years ago. Ray's worst fear was that she was scarred for life and that the trauma would affect her life decisions later on; there was no fixing that.

"Tala…you should be the least of my worries." The name on his tongue tasted like bile.

He was a pale-skinned, ice-eyed Russian that served as a vessel for evil; his career contradicted his true interests. Tala had Ray fooled from the start – had the golden-eyed man eating out of the palm of his hand. Ray's stomach twisted every time he thought about the worst mistake he ever made – agreeing to enter a relationship with Tala. Those were memories he forced himself to forget, but they ruined any potential relationships for him after that. He stood up and swiped his pack of cigarettes off the coffee table, headed for the small balcony at the back of the apartment. When the sliding door barely budged, Ray grunted; it was yet another thing he promised to fix. _Too early for this shit…_ He gripped the handle on the metal frame firmly. _One quick yank ought to…_ Not realizing how stuck the door really _wasn't_, Ray pulled the flimsy thing right off its track. "Son of a bitch."

Ray shook his head and stepped outside. Quickly, the issue made its way to the "I really don't give a fuck right now" pile of matters in his head. He wasn't required to be at the restaurant until nine that morning, leaving plenty of time to settle his thoughts…and fix the door. The man flipped open the top of the pack in his hand, drawing out a small, black Bic lighter and cigarette; the pack was already halfway gone after only one day. _How many times did I say I'd kick this habit, too? Heh…better than the shit I did back then._ He stuck the cancer stick between his lips. With the lighter in his right hand, he attempted three clicks to bring out a flame from the item, ending with failure each time. Ray sighed before trying to get a flicker of blaze out of the lighter once more. Finally successful this time, he guarded the little flame with his left hand and set the tip of his cigarette ablaze. That first inhale sent a slight, relaxing numbness throughout his body, making the disarrayed contents of his mind just a little more tolerable.

He looked over his shoulder at the digital clock on the oven. 4:16 A.M. There was three hours before Ray had to get a move on for work – two and a half if Gemma wasn't with the program this Saturday morning; the girl was mature, but her father still thought she was too young to be left home alone. Regardless, the tattoo artist had some time to generate a façade of peace and composure. He leaned on the railing of the small balcony and drew in a deep breath, then exhaled meditatively. _Alright Ray…Remember what he did to you. You're stronger now. He can't get under your skin and make you bow down in fear. Bite back, dammit! Be brave, for Gemma's sake, at least. Tala caught you off-guard just by showing up, but that's no reason to let that asshole control you __**again**__! You've got too many street smarts. __**You**__ do the controlling around here!_

Giving himself a mental pep talk lit a fire within – literally emphasized by the warmth he felt from his morning smoke. Still, Ray couldn't help but to acknowledge the steady chill that crept down his back. He desperately hoped that Lee was trying to develop some sick sense of humor when he was informed of Tala's return. Seeing his redheaded ex confirmed that it was the return of a nightmarish reality, especially when he cornered Ray in town a couple days ago. Even though Tala was the one to leave the relationship, he still managed to get his digs into the neko-jin; his words were as ice-cold as ever.

_"Come on, __**kitten**__, you couldn't seriously believe the big, bad wolf would let you out of the bag that easily…I don't think you understand the actual power I have over you…You think you're past me, Ray? Ha! I'll have you begging for more than just mercy. Just you wait."_

He shook his head vigorously to himself of the memory, his onyx locks sweeping across his face. Ray brought the cigarette to his lips, but stopped when he realized it had burned down to the filter while he was stuck in recent history. "Tala, I don't think _you_ understand," He drew another stick from the pack, lit up, and took a drag, "just how _past you_ I am." A light breeze passed, carrying away the smoke with his words.

Despite how unsettled his mind was, Ray felt a deeper calmness in his soul; he firmly believed that everything happened for a reason and that this was a test of his strength and will. That gave him enough optimism to confidently take on another day. He stubbed out the end of his last smoke for the morning before returning inside to start a pot of coffee. While waiting for the machine to produce a fresh brew, Ray returned to the living room. Sitting back down on the couch, he picked up his sketchbook and pencil. His interest in the drawing on the page was instantly renewed when his bright, amber eyes fell on the subject, and it excited him that something so beautiful could be shared with another in the form of a tattoo. He had a vision for this project; hopefully it was the same sight his client was seeing, too.

All it needed was a few remaining details. Ray spent most of the night drawing after Lee delivered the assignment; it was almost too long ago since Ray had a client that was looking for something _this_ _awesome_. As he pushed his bangs away with the eraser end of his pencil, he wondered about the client, and more about the story behind this. _It's too weird…I've seen this thing in the same dream as the one my white tiger showed up in…coincidence here?_ Ray continued to sketch, tuning out the world around him – the drip from the kitchen sink, the Saturday morning traffic that was picking up on the streets, even the alarm clock buzzing from his bedroom.

Coming out of his trance, the faint noise registered in his brain. "Six thirty already?" He rose from the couch to silence the device, but midway, the sound stopped. Ray peered down the hall to see a small figure walk out of his room. "Gem? You up?"

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Gemma padded into the room with bare feet. "Yeah. I thought you were still asleep. It's been going off forever." Her upper body flopped over the back of the couch. "Can't I stay home, just this once? It's too early."

"Sweetheart, you know how I feel about leaving you home alone." Her father rubbed the back of his neck, not wanting this argument so early in the morning. It wasn't that Ray didn't trust her; he didn't trust the neighborhood. _Especially with you-know-who back around..._

"Please? Come on, dad, I had a tough week, too. Especially since Mr. Hiwatari gave us another pop quiz _and_ another chapter assignment. _And_! I haven't seen a single episode of Beyblade Metal Fury in weeks!" She gazed up at Ray's face, giving him an award-winning pout. "Please, daddy? I'm almost thirteen. I can spend a couple hours on my own, and if you let Mathilda stay over for the night, everything will be just fine until you get home."

Gemma wasn't giving him much room to budge. Ray was impressed that she thought her reasoning through. "You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"Since Wednesday."

The tattooist laughed at his daughter's bluntly honest answer. He truly did raise a good kid, despite all they had been through over the years. "Alright, you got me. You can stay. But I'll be checking in, so no wild parties. Understood?"

Gemma bounded round the couch, striking her father with a full-force hug, mumbling a slew of "thank yous" into Ray's abdomen. Moments like this reminded him that he was doing just fine as a single parent; Ray couldn't give his daughter the world, but his best efforts were appreciated and worth almost every moment of hardship. _Makes me wonder how you would do as her parent._ He returned Gemma's affectionate embrace, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. The other hand fell on her head, lightly ruffling Gemma's still-messy bed head. "I've got an idea. Since you're up, how about I cook up an awesome breakfast? Pancakes and eggs sound good?"

She gave him a wide smile, her fangs slightly poking out from between her lips. "With bacon?"

"If there's time. Get everything out and start the batter. I gotta shower and get ready for work."

The duo split up. Ray had to hustle if he was going to keep his promise of whipping up a fresh breakfast; it would be the least he could do, considering how late the raven-haired knew he'd come home. He was slightly relieved to know that Gemma thought ahead of him and suggested her older friend spend the night. Mathilda was a sophomore in high school who lived in the same building as the Kons – someone Gemma grew up with and Ray trusted.

Ray showered as quickly as possible - a task that was never an easy feat, considering his long, silky, black tresses required proper attention and care. The long tail-like portion of hair at the back of his head was easier to maintain than people thought; it was something he grew up with. Ray's hairstyle was a signature. If he wasn't known for tattoos, then it was his glorious onyx locks – well-spiked and styled, held together by a red bandana around his head and a white fabric wrap holding in his tail.

He flew out of the shower, thankful that his body was naturally clean of unwanted hair elsewhere and that there wasn't a need to shave. After quickly towel-drying his hair, Ray looked in the mirror. He noticed how tired he was beginning to appear. Dark circles starting to form under his eyes, he never really took a moment to see how pale he was becoming, too. Most days, the artist would ignore the overall fatigue; he would have no choice but to keep going, no matter how hard a six-day, nearly eighty-hour work week drove him. Even when it all seemed hopeless, useless, and absolutely worthless, Ray found a method and reasoning to _make_ it seem like there was a purpose for this. _I'm certainly not getting any younger, that's for damn sure. God, I wasted so many years on fucking up and screwing over._

Finally dressed for his first job, in black pants and a blue chef's shirt, Ray started for the kitchen. There was the light, sweet smell of pancakes wafting through the air in the cozy, two-bedroom apartment. _She found my stash of chocolate chips, too!_ When he made it to the entryway, he was blown away by the sight of his daughter preparing breakfast. The table was set for two, with orange juice at both settings and a steaming mug of coffee by one. Nothing was burning, there was no sign of fire, and even the linoleum tile floor managed to stay clean. Last time Gemma tried her hand at cooking, all of the above happened two-fold, plus Ray spent quality time on the couch with a sprained ankle and two broken toes after a nasty slip and solid collision with the bottom of the refrigerator; that was just last year.

Hair tied up in a ponytail, Gemma looked away from the stovetop and smiled smugly. Taking home economics wasn't such a bad idea anymore. "See, dad? I'm not a total lost cause."

"I never said you were." With practiced hands, Ray wrapped the tail of hair. "No bacon?"

"Not unless you want another broken toe."

xXx

Despite it being a weekend, none of the staff in the little café expected a mob of customers. It was another quiet, laid-back day. The fair weather only enhanced the relaxing work atmosphere...if Johnny could just keep his mouth shut.

"The one day I asked to have off, I get turned down! There's no business here anyway!"

Max rolled his eyes. Almost halfway through his double shift for the day, he wasn't looking forward to spending his evening with the loudmouth cook after Ray leaves. The blond leaned on the front counter and fiddled with a highlighter; an open textbook was held up against a metal napkin holder in front of him. With midterms starting on Monday, Max took every spare moment he could to study. It was his mission to impress Kai and prove his worth as a potential apprentice to someone he looked up to. Glancing away from his Statistics II notes, the waiter saw Ray at the other end of the counter with his nose in his drawing. "Man, you've been at that all day."

Ray's ears perked at the sound of Max's voice; he tuned out Johnny long ago. "Hm? Yeah, I've been working on it since last night. It's for a client."

The student was always impressed with Ray's work. He'd never known anyone as artistic as Ray, but he knew how badly the black-haired cook wanted tattooing to be his only profession someday. Working together for the past three years, Max learned of his situation. He could partially relate, being a child of parents who are now separated and also having a best friend that's going through life as a young parent, too, Max was sympathetic toward his co-worker. Ray was yet another admirable role model for himself. "Wow. That'll take a long time to complete when you get down to the ink, won't it?"

"No doubt about that. I gotta outline it all, shade it in, color it, and everything in between. It's gonna be huge!" By the end of his statement, Ray was psyched up.

"That sounds awesome! I bet your client is pretty stoked too!" Max looked at the clock on the wall. "Why don't you get out of here and get a head start on that? I'm sure Oliver won't give you a hard time at the staff meeting next week. He knows your story. And don't worry, I can handle Johnny. I know what the frying pan by the kitchen door is for. One good whack and BAM! He's down!"

The artist laughed at the younger employee's energetic response. An extra couple of hours would cut down the prep time before getting to actually tattoo. He slapped his sketchbook closed and gathered his pencils. Thanking Max for his good thinking, Ray made a hasty getaway from the café – chased out by a cranky Johnny shouting out a string of profanities.

He had a good feeling about this.

* * *

**A/N:** You see what I did there? c; Fresh apple turnovers to whoever sees the little "easter eggs" I slipped in this one. And a Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there! I saw that I was falling behind in the progression & made a point to line up a father/daughter moment with the holiday to sort of make up for it. Kind of a little homage to my own dad, too.  
Stay tuned, readers~!


	5. V

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Thanks for all your views & reviews on this. I must apologize for the seriously late delay in getting this installment out to you; there was a deadline for another work that I just couldn't miss and it sucked up a lot of my time & attention. Hopefully this makes up for it. Enjoy~!

* * *

V

Stepping into the shop, Ray was met with silence. If he told Lee once, he told him a million times; the front end can't be left unmanned. It was enough to prod at the neko-jin's tolerance, but not enough to knock his mood down a peg. Before setting out any of his tools of the trade, Ray wanted to change. Now that there was a custom piece in his hands, he wanted to do everything he could to leave a positive impression on his client – even if it meant just looking decent or not smelling so much like a kitchen. _What's his name again? Oh yeah. Kai. _It'll be great if this Kai likes his work, but Ray would rather not be remembered as "the guy who does great tattoos, but smells like a deep fryer." After taking a second set of pants and a shirt out of his old, ratty backpack, the raven-haired artist headed to the bathroom in the back.

Just next to the restroom was the office he shared with his long-time friend. Seeing the door closed, Ray thought nothing of it, under the impression that Lee was tending to the business end of their tattoo shop. There was no time to completely rid his whole self of the kitchen smell, but changing out of his cook's uniform certainly helped a great deal. Ray stepped into the small bathroom – nothing more than the basic sink and toilet combo, it had a similar design style to match the rest of The Tiger's Den. He could have _not_ worn a uniform while he worked in the café, but his natural sense of pride weaseled its way through and demanded he look presentable. _Because someone has to show up that schlep Johnny._ But Ray needed to wear something a little more comfortable and flexible; while tattooing, he didn't want to be readjusting his clothes constantly. It was a profession that wasn't about looking like a magazine model.

He quickly shed the blue chef jacket, regretting not wearing a t-shirt underneath when the cool air assaulted his bare skin, and swapped it for a plain, black, cotton three-quarter sleeved shirt; the collar was low enough to expose a peek of the Latin words across his collarbones. Ray was never known for his fashion sense, but he knew what looked good on him. Pulling on a pair of faded black jeans, Ray felt much better. One look in the mirror and a quick run of his fingers through his hair, he was ready to rock and roll!

As he readjusted his sneakers on the way out, Ray could hear Lee talking to someone on the phone; by the sound of his voice, the shop's co-owner was not happy. It left Ray to wonder who got his friend _that _mad. Figuring he was cat-like enough to have one life to spare, he silently listened to Lee's conversation from outside the door.

"I don't give a shit if you're family or not! Don't make this anymore difficult than it already is…Yes, but that's beside the fact-…well good! You should fucking listen to me more often…Fine…Goodbye."

Hearing Lee slam the phone back down onto the receiver, Ray went on his way to the shop floor, as if he didn't hear anything; the tattooist had his own calls to make, including one to check up on Gemma. But it was hard to not think about the person on the other end of that conversation. It had to be a family member. Then again, Lee didn't have much family left. To his knowledge, there was only one person he could think of that his friend would speak to like that, and it made Ray shudder.

"You're here early." Lee clapped his hand on Ray's shoulder, forcing the neko-jin to jump. The other man laughed at his reaction. "Damn, Ray. What does that take you down to? Seven lives left, or is it six after that?"

"You'll be down to one if you do that again." Ray said jokingly as he picked up the phone at the front desk and dialed a number.

Seeing the number for the tattoo shop appear on the caller ID, Gemma picked up, anticipating a lecture from her father. She wanted to beat him to the punch. "Hi, dad. Everything's fine. The kitchen is still standing and I even cleaned up the living room."

Ray pulled the cordless phone away from his ear, looked at it, completely perplexed, and then put it to his ear again. "I know I called the right number. Are you sure you're my daughter? What happened to the lazy kid that never remembers to throw her clothes in the hamper?"

Gemma groaned over the line. Her father was sure the younger neko-jin was rolling her eyes, too. "Mathilda will be here soon. Don't be such a worry wart."

"Okay, I won't. Depending on how long this guy can sit, I might get a lot done tonight. Since I won't be home for dinner, take a couple bucks from the jar under the sink and order pizza."

After reassuring him several times over, Gemma announced that her friend had arrived. And with a warning to her father about paying attention to his work, the artist's daughter hung up, but not without saying, "I love you, dad," first.

Hitting the END button on the shop's phone, Ray sighed and leaned on the desk. "She's really growing up, Lee. My little girl…"

It made his friend tense. Given that Lee was still upset from the recent discussion Ray eavesdropped on, it may have something to do with his grave tone. "No matter what, Ray, she will always be _your_ little girl." With that, he turned and walked back to the office.

_Wonder what's eating him. Lee, don't be going soft on me, man. I'm enough of a mess._ Ray had to reel his focus back in; he would check up on Lee later. Finding Kai's contact number in the appointment book, the eager tattoo artist called his incoming client. When there was no answer after the fourth ring, Ray left a voicemail, inviting Kai to come in at any time if he didn't want to wait for his six-thirty time slot. Looking at the clock on the wall, the amber-eyed man ran a schedule scenario in his head; there was time to knock out small walk-ins. A few warm-ups would do him some good.

And when a group of five college kids came in a half-hour later, Ray saw the start of a very trying afternoon.

xXx

Eyes closed, Kai lay on the hilltop in the park; the sun was just in the beginning phases of setting for the day. A soft breeze swept over the meditative figure. It had been a while since he felt this relaxed. With autumn in full swing, Kai took comfort in the cool temperature and the serene environment; no one would dare to approach a guy with dual-toned hair, war paint on his face, and an interestingly threatening choice of clothing – black pants, accompanied by a pair of boots, dark violet t-shirt, and a black jacket. Kai's appearance was only slightly softened by the presence of the long, white scarf loosely wrapped around his neck.

His mind was clear of all thoughts, leaving the off-duty teacher to wonder if it was possible to lucid dream at that very moment. Seemed to be that the only things able to scare him were the images his subconscious projected when he wasn't looking. _Except that phoenix._ Kai's eyes snapped open. Not from the thrumming rhythm of his heart that a vision of the great creature brought about, but the buzzing in his pocket, rattling against his keys, disturbed his peace.

Shifting to remove the device, Kai mumbled under his breath – something along the lines of "maim the telemarketers that keep calling." As he recognized the number on the screen, the merlot-eyed male changed his hostile tune. He was almost confused to see the notification; very few people ever called him. "Voicemail?" After he dialed in his password, Kai put the phone to his ear, still lying back on the grass.

"_Hey Kai. This is Ray from the Tiger's Den. You made an appointment with me for later this evening. I don't know how your schedule is, but if you'd like to, you're more than welcome to come by earlier so we can get started on this piece. Not gonna lie…it's definitely gonna take some time to complete. So whatever you decide to do, I'll see you later."_

He thought about it for a moment. There weren't many plans set for the day, although Kai somewhat hoped to run into the stray cat that hangs around the back door of his house and waits for handouts. The idea of grocery shopping wasn't very appealing either. Kai didn't need to look at a clock to know that the afternoon wasn't far from ending. He rose from his position on the ground. "To Tiger's Den it is, then."

The park was on the opposite side of the city from the shop, and given that it was Saturday, Kai couldn't see the point in rushing just to get caught in traffic. If he was even excited about the tattoo, his expression gave no hints. Thinking about it, the slate-haired man could bear to show a _little _more expression, other than anguished hatred and seething anger. His smile bordered on the lines of psychopathic.

xXx

He would have been there sooner, but with a cop trailing him for the past seven miles, Kai didn't feel like taking a chance. If he made it to the Tiger's Den before his appointment, then great. If not, oh well. When the slate-haired teacher finally parked his motorcycle in front of the shop, the officer following him did an excruciatingly slow drive-by. Kai simply rolled his eyes. _Asshole...couldn't find someone else to instigate?_ He swung his leg over the bike, took off his helmet, and entered the shop while fixing his hair. Right away, he noticed Lee look up at him from his current work on a client's thigh and nod to him in greeting. Then Kai's eyes moved to the figure that sat behind the front desk.

Ray stared out the window so intently - his heated, amber eyes on the scene that unraveled before him, much like a cat. He heard the bell above the front door ring, but his thought process was terribly preoccupied. Officers of the law made Ray overly-paranoid. _Because he still watches me…_

When Kai stepped up to the desk, the tattooist instantly brought himself back. "Hello."

"I'm here to see Ray."

The neko-jin's heart skipped with excitement. This was it! "That's me. You must be Kai. Glad you could make it sooner." Ray stood from his seat to welcome his client properly, and extended his hand to Kai. He had to admit, this wasn't what he pictured this client to look like, but Ray wasn't at all disappointed. _This is far from the "straight-laced tightwad" Lee said he was._

The man on the opposite side of the counter shook his hand with a strong grip, suddenly aware that Ray had some decent strength of his own. "So you have it drawn up?"

"Everything's just about ready. I just hope the stencil is big enough for you." Ray led him to his station in the back corner of the shop floor.

Needles and special components, still in their sterile packaging, were placed on a covered, steel tray. Electrical wires were lined in protective slip covers. Kai was impressed with his organizational skills. He could see the large stencil on the work desk nearby; its size was so great, the paper hung over the edge.

The black-haired artist enclosed the station with the accordion-style room separator. Excited to show Kai the initial drawing he conjured, Ray revealed the aspired product. His client's hard, Cabernet gaze gleamed with interest and approval; Kai was speechless. _That's it!_ Although the drawing was just a pencil sketch, it could stand as a piece of art on its own. Kai could see elements of the drawing he supplied Ray with, but the artist's version was too marvelous for words. More than anything, Kai saw the very phoenix from his dreams staring back at him. Ray saw the regal wingspan, the powerful body, and the same intense stare that Kai saw, emerging from a flaming background. It was unreal.

Ray grinned with pride before turning around to fetch a pair of gloves; it was just his luck that the stencil was big enough to fit his canvas's specifications, too. Kai didn't need to be asked before he removed the clothes that covered his upper body.

"You're not allergic to latex, right?" The sight of a _stunningly muscular_ Kai startled him as the rubber glove snapped his wrist hard when he turned back around.

"No. I guess you could say I was blessed to never have allergies."

Ray made quick work of threading the needles through the multiple machines on the tray. "Lucky you. I got a kid with the worst seasonal allergies. She definitely didn't get them from me." He then applied the stencil carefully to ensure perfect placement. It was a bonus that Kai was virtually hairless; it shaved off two minutes of prep time before tattooing.

As subtle as his expression was, Kai was thrilled when he saw the design in the mirror on the wall next to him. He looked to Ray for any comment because even the initial stencil had blown him away. Kai was almost impatient for the piece to be complete. The tattoo artist took his seat and readjusted the workbench for it to lay flat.

The slate-haired man took his position, mentally and physically prepared for the first strike of the needle. "Let's roll."

Before going in for the first line, Ray noticed something red on Kai's hip, peeking out from behind the waistband of his pants. "Oh? I see this isn't your first tattoo."

Kai put his chin on top of his hands. He took the first line well, knowing he was in for worse than that; the man on the table wasn't looking forward to when Ray would have to outline the parts closer to his neck. "Yeah...It was a dare in college. That was forever ago. It's just the kanji for fire. Don't even know how to say it."

The artist chuckled. "I know about those kinda dares all too well. You're lucky you got to pick yours. Some poor souls have trudged through that door and have walked out with all kinds of stuff. I mean, we _could_ refuse service, but nothing too awful has come our way yet."

Even with needles penetrating his skin infinitely, Kai was relaxed. He was no stranger to pain, yet this kind of ache was desirable – pleasurable. If he really wanted to, the teacher could have fallen asleep under Ray's trusted watch. Even the mix of hard rock and metal songs quietly coming from the iPod speakers on the desk eased him further. While the silence between him and the tattooist was comfortable, Kai wanted more out of the experience. He turned his head to look at the other beside him. Ray was filling the ink reserve in the machine, and when he turned back to his work, the neko-jin caught his client watching him. He gave Kai a warm smile. "Doing alright, champ? We're barely a quarter of the way there."

"Won't be hearing shit from me. I can take it."

"If you say so, but I've been in this business a long time, Kai. I'm very good at being able to read my clients."

Kai didn't feel threatened by Ray; he knew the artist was merely joking around. It was a surprise to the slate-haired man that friendly banter came so easily to him around someone who was still a stranger. As Ray continued his work, the two conversed easily. Realizing that the black-haired tattooist was also the cook of that little café, and Kai was the "brooding regular" gave them both a good reason to laugh. Kai soon learned that Ray never finished high school, but finished his tattooing apprenticeship by the time he was nineteen; the slate-haired man, on the other hand, repulsively admitted to being enrolled in a Russian military academy after he was expelled from an exclusive boarding school. When the tattooist admitted to missing the little village he was raised in during his childhood, Kai couldn't help but to agree that a rural setting offered a better quality of life. To which, Ray mentioned that it would be easier to quit smoking without the stresses of city life. The chitchat really helped to pass the time.

The golden-eyed artist put his machine down on the tray and stood up to stretch. "Ready for a break?"

Kai got up from the bench slowly. Although he could have tolerated more, the sensation of having a needle dragged across his back was starting to feel uncomfortable. "Yeah." He reached into the pocket of his jacket, finding it empty. "Shit…"

Ray tilted his head in confusion. "Something wrong?"

"My cigarettes are missing."

"You can bum one off me. Let me cover your ink up first, so it doesn't get ruined." The tattooist taped special gauze pads around the design, cautious of the remaining stencil. Kai carefully pulled on his shirt afterwards.

Ray led him to the small lot behind the shop. Only the light of a single lamp mounted adjacent to the door enlightened the darkened scene. Drawing two smokes from the pack, Ray passed one to Kai, also offering him his lighter once he lit his own. The history instructor ignited his old habit now that parent-teacher conferences were coming up next week; and after receiving a not-so-good teacher evaluation from the newly-hired vice principal, Kai was starting to stress – something he hadn't done in a long time. "Not for nothing, Ray, but I never would've thought you had a bad habit."

Flicking the cigarette to rid it of the ashes, Ray chuckled. "You should've known me when I was sixteen. This is nothing." He wanted to tell him the stories of his life lessons and how he came to learn them. Ray couldn't talk to Lee or Max the way he could with Kai; it was a nice break from the ordinary, and it almost bothered the neko-jin that eventually this acquaintance would come to an end someday.

But there were at least two more sessions in store for them. Thus the artist and client bond strengthened.

They reentered the shop after a smoke break. Kai took his place on the bench again while Ray pulled on another pair of gloves. Glancing over at the artist prior to resuming his work, Kai broke the nighttime silence. "Hey, Ray."

Just before he packed more ink into his client's pale skin, his golden gaze met one that made him think _film noir_. "Hm?"

Kai took a plunge even he didn't see coming. "Think you'd want to go have a drink sometime?"

"Yeah…I'd like that."

* * *

**A/N:** I had to get a tattoo recently to accurately include the details. Kidding. ...But I seriously did add another tattoo to my growing collection of ink. Like Kai, I nearly fell asleep, too. Totally recommend it - a wonderfully therapeutic experience!


	6. VI

**A/N:** Hey guys. A ton of apologies for this taking so long to post. I had it all planned out...then I put in more detail than you probably want to read. However, I think it just adds to the story's overall character. After all, it does say in the genre tag, "drama." Please accept more apologies because I finished writing this chapter at the ass-crack of dawn, failed to do a better editing job, and simply could not wait to get this out to the readers.**  
****I will warn you now:** There are concepts in here that might not be accepted well by some readers. **READ AT YOUR OWN RISK **please & thank you. I have my fingers crossed that this doesn't get flagged and we all lose something we enjoy - that being "Ink & Glory." Love to all who viewed/reviewed in the past. Thanks, everyone.

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VI

"So let me get this straight. Lee took the rap for you and did jail time so you wouldn't get caught in a drug bust?"

Ray smiled as he watched a droplet of condensation run down his beer bottle. "Yep. But he didn't do it for me. Lee took the hit so I could raise my own kid. It was bad enough her mother left her on my doorstep and it wouldn't have been fair to Gemma to have a father behind bars, too." Throwing caution to the wind, Ray took up Kai's offer for drinks as soon as their session was done for the night. He never received a sign that he shouldn't go, although he did try to talk Kai out of consuming alcohol so soon because of the fresh tattoo and the possibility of its healing being delayed.

The slate-haired teacher admired Lee's noble actions of the past, but he still had trouble tolerating his hotheaded attitude. Regardless, he was jealous that Ray had such a close friend that was willing to go to a rather extreme length for the sake of a child having some shred of a normal life. Kai never fully experienced friendship. He kept allies around all his life, which was essentially the same, but there were apparently some big differences between the two amicable concepts. Friendship required a more extraordinary amount of trust than that of allied forces. The teacher could count how many allies he had on one hand with fingers to spare. _There's Kenny…and Max...and…No, not Robert. He's a pain in the ass._ Kai could feel another headache coming on as he forced himself to think of the very few people he placed any trust in. What was even more confusing was how Ray didn't become hardened and cold over time; his character was genuinely confident and optimistic. Although, he couldn't help but to contemplate calling Ray an ally. And just what did the tattoo artist think of him as?

Lighthearted discussions turned into deep talks of personal philosophies. The golden-eyed man seated at the bar would have been lying if he said Kai's tough demeanor wasn't a turn-on. Ray had to restrict himself, lest he forget the last time he was involved with someone who fell under the category of "dangerous." _Then again, the fact that this one here has a soft spot for cats definitely scores him some points._ Realizing earlier that Kai was Russian made the artist tense; the coincidence that his ex-boyfriend was also Russian was beyond bizarre – creepy almost. Checking the clock on the wall, he noticed that it was starting to get late. "Bet your girlfriend is wondering where you are."

"Girlfriend? I don't exactly have the patience for women. I'm too much of a bastard anyway."

Ray laughed quietly. "Yeah, you certainly give off that vibe. I tried that, too. It didn't work out." He polished off his second beer and started to relax in Kai's presence; he trusted that the slate-haired wouldn't take advantage of how easily Ray was influenced by alcohol. The tattooist barely indulged in the intoxicant, having given it up when Gemma was a toddler. "I bet you're the first one to throw a punch in a fight."

"It depends. Did you want to take a crack at me, Ray?" Shifting his glance at his temporary companion, Kai winked suggestively.

The neko-jin was speechless as a light blush spread over his cheeks. A comfortable silence washed over them, clouding their awareness to the new presence behind them.

"Excuse me, sir." Kai watched Ray as the artist's amber orbs widened and his body stiffened in his spot.

Taking his companion's reaction to the figure as a bad omen, Kai didn't even want to give this intruder the time of day. "Unless you're here to pay my tab, I suggest you take a hike."

This presence had a menacing chuckle. "I was only going to ask if you were having a problem with this…troublemaker. I hope you understand that he is capable of more than just disorderly conduct."

"And I'm more than capable of putting a fist in your face if you don't get the fuck outta here because frankly you seem more like a threat than him." The figure walked away. He was just lucky Kai didn't decide to swing around and confront the individual face-to-face; however, he was barely intimidated by the over-the-shoulder, wine-eyed glare he was receiving from Ray's defender.

Kai watched the person disappear out the tavern's door before turning back to Ray, who was still faintly distressed by the encounter. He was more concerned than curious about the black-haired man's acquaintance with that individual. "Who was that, Ray?"

The neko-jin took a deep breath. "Someone who pays attention to my record more than I do. Let's just say we have history." He stood from his seat and slipped on his jacket. "If it's not too much trouble, would you mind taking me home?"

Kai nodded silently. Whoever that person was got under his companion's skin more than all the ink in the world did, and it bothered Kai, too; the silhouette of the figure looked so familiar, and that voice…it had a recognizable, irritating tone to it. _It's Ray's issue. Don't get involved._ Yet, guilt kept its fangs sunk in Kai. His short-term comrade had a sense of strength and confidence radiating from him, so was there really a need to get involved? _Not like I could be of any help anyway…_ He paid for their drinks and escorted Ray outside. As they walked out of the dive bar, Kai unconsciously put his hand on the neko-jin's lower back to guide him toward the motorcycle.

Although he was surprised by Kai's action, Ray found the touch to be comforting. He was even more pleased by the fact that the slate-haired badass gave that deceitful Tala a taste of his own venom without a second thought; it made Kai more striking. In the back of his mind, Ray wanted to stop himself from slipping any further under his newfound attraction's spell, for fear that the past would repeat itself. But in his gut, the tattooist felt that if he held himself back from something as enticing as Kai, then he'd be missing out on a lot more.

After swinging his leg over the motorcycle, Kai handed off his helmet to Ray. "I don't have a spare."

It made the golden-eyed male wary, but he took the protective gear. "Are you sure? We had a few drinks. Why don't we call a cab?"

Kai smiled at him and started the machine. "I'm Russian, Ray. I was born with alcohol in my blood."

_Say no. Just say no, dumbass._ "Alright…but don't make me regret this." The tattooist pulled on the helmet and took his seat behind Kai. He was slightly concerned about the way they would fit on the bike together, but any fear of awkwardness was not mutual; Kai was perfectly content with this arrangement. As they took off into the night, Ray instinctively clutched Kai's shoulders, fearful of what the other was thinking. _Damn! He's got some serious muscle… _Silently, Ray pleaded for no screwy business while they were _both_ on the motorcycle by keeping his grip tight. The raven-haired finally settled into his position a few miles into their trip as he began to trust Kai; his hands relaxed their vice-like clutch.

Stopped at a red light, Kai looked over his shoulder. Despite not being able to see Ray's amber gaze through the tinted shield at this late hour, he knew the passenger was just fine with his driving so far. The corner of Kai's mouth curved into a cocky smirk. Aside from the way Ray touched him as he tattooed the slate-haired, Kai liked the way the artist's hands held him. Regardless of the chilly temperature, goose bumps ran down his arms as Ray absentmindedly ran his thumb over the stitching on the sleeve of Kai's jacket. Still looking over at Ray, Kai's gaze dared him to move those hands. His conscience was muddled by the alcohol in his system, but clearly he made it known what he wanted – Ray.

Picking up on Kai's not-so-subtle hints, the tattooist decided to play along. So long as he maintained his self-control, which was beginning to fray the longer they were on that bike together, Ray saw no harm in responding to the flirtatious advances. As Kai turned back to watch the road ahead when the light turned green, the ebony-haired passenger took advantage of the moment he wasn't looking; in a deliberately slow motion, Ray trailed his fingertips down Kai's shoulders, careful of the fresh tattoo beneath his clothes, sweeping them over his ribs, curving over his lower back, and then pressed his palms on Kai's hips as Ray hooked his thumbs in the belt loops on his pants. The teacher bit his tongue as he tried to keep himself composed. Without wearing his helmet, his aggressively turned-on expression would be exposed for the entire world to see, and he was damn sure Ray was grinning like a Cheshire cat behind him. There was no hiding his growing erection either.

The further downtown they traveled, the more Kai wished he was carrying a concealed weapon. The neighborhood was starting to appear less and less friendlier. He never fully realized how much it cost to support two people on a single person's income, especially when that single person was working two jobs; although he generally lived well on his own salary, Kai was fortunate to have a grand inheritance behind him. Given how much he paid Ray for today's session, the merlot-eyed instructor estimated that by the time his tattoo was finished, Ray's rent should be paid for the next few months. Kai almost let himself assume that his companion was involved in some other less-than-honest business.

He stopped the motorcycle at the sidewalk leading toward a small apartment complex. Ray hoisted himself off the machine, using Kai's shoulders for support. After removing the helmet, the neko-jin shook out his obsidian tresses – the silken shine gleamed in the moonlight. He smiled at Kai as he handed it over. "Thanks for the ride home."

"You're welcome. I'll see you in a couple weeks for the next step?"

Ray nodded; he was glad to hear that Kai looked forward to seeing him again. "If you have any questions, give me a call."

It sounded more like an invitation to further flirt with the golden-eyed man. "Yeah. Goodnight, Ray." Kai pulled on his helmet, revved the engine, and sped off.

The tattoo artist watched his newfound friend leave. He was happy to have met someone with an edge like Kai's. But there was something in his soul that kept Ray wanting more of the slate-haired's interest – something more than just his skill with needles and ink. He scoffed at the idea of "love." It was merely a chance that they got along so well. _But there must be a reason he has a foothold in me…_

xXx

With all the lights off in the apartment, the girls were huddled under a blanket on the couch. They clung to each other in fear as they kept their eyes glued to the horror movie on the television screen. Gemma trembled horribly, accompanied by terrified whimpers when the door being unlocked in the movie was unknowingly echoed by the unlocking front door of the apartment. Simultaneously, both doors creaked open.

A gruesome-looking character appeared on-screen as Ray announced his presence. "I'm home."

Gemma and Mathilda shrieked and nearly jumped out of their skins, sending a bowl of popcorn flying into the air and then clattering into a mess on the floor. Seeing the horror movie on the TV, Ray burst out laughing at his impeccable timing.

Once she caught her breath, Gemma peeked over the back of the couch. "Dad! That wasn't funny!" The younger neko-jin gave him a halfhearted glare. When he continued to laugh, barely able to get out the words in between breaths, "You should have seen your faces," she pelted him with pillows.

Coming out of his hysterical laughing fit, Ray wiped the tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, honey. I had no idea you liked scary movies."

The girl sat back down. "Not after that…"

Ray hung his jacket on the hook by the door and kicked off his shoes, after closing and locking it with the deadbolt, chain, and lock on the doorknob, out of safety concerns, then dropped his backpack next to the sneakers. He enjoyed his time out after work, but nothing was as pleasant as coming home. "So other than your premature heart attacks, everything else was okay, I assume."

Gemma followed her father into the kitchen. She retrieved the leftover pizza from the fridge as he filled the teapot with water and kicked on the stovetop burner. Handing over a slice of meat lover's pizza wrapped in aluminum foil, Ray's daughter gave him an annoyed look. "You didn't have to send Max to babysit. We were fine. But he really stinks at blackjack."

Her father didn't have to explain why he asked such a favor from his co-worker, and it set Ray at ease that he did. Having completely forgotten about Tala prior to his "date" with Kai, the ebony-haired artist was bluntly reminded that his ex-boyfriend would play nightmarish mind games and eventually make Ray paranoid. And if it came down to it, Tala would bring Gemma into the mix; he already did it once. Plus, Ray arrived home later than he should have. While Mathilda was responsible and had earned Ray's trust, she had no idea of what kind of malevolence troubled her friend's family.

"Oh! Someone called for you. I didn't recognize the number, so I didn't answer. She left a message, though."

Ray had just bitten into his pizza. "She?"

Gemma swept a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. "I don't remember her name, but she mentioned Uncle Lee…and me too…"

Picking up on the apprehension in his daughter's voice, Ray's mindset went into protective father mode; he had an inkling of whose voice was on that recording, and he was afraid to confirm it. After a quick hug from Gemma, Ray sent her and Mathilda off to continue their sleepover, placing much emphasis on the _sleep_ part. The elder Kon prepared a cup of tea and finished his small meal before daring to check that message. As much as he wanted to just erase the data on the machine, Ray was just too curious; the blinking red button simply could not be ignored. He swallowed the last bite of pizza then stepped over to the answering machine on the counter. Almost as if he was afraid it would bite, Ray quickly pressed the play button and drew his hand back.

"_Ray? It's Mariah. As much as Lee told me not to bother, I just had to talk to you. Listen, I know we didn't end our relationship in the best of terms, but I realize that Gemma will be turning thirteen soon. I'll be in town around her birthday, and I think I have the right to see her. I almost can't believe, after all these years, you never made the effort to seek me out, but you always had that cowardly streak. Hopefully you grew a backbone by now. Call me, Ray. I shouldn't have to beg for you to do that."_

He let the machine stop itself. The black mug in his hand narrowly escaped a smashing demise on the kitchen floor when Ray suddenly tightened his clammy grip on the curved handle. There were very few people he held a grudge against; he could even forgive and forget some of the worst clients he ever met during his career as a tattoo artist. But this…it was unforgivable. Under his enraged exterior, the neko-jin had to think clearly. Going over the message that echoed in his mind, Ray dissected every single word Mariah left. By law, he was confident that she wasn't owed _his_ daughter's time; he had a little over a month to figure out what to do. But how to go about this without Gemma becoming _too_ frantic was another blueprint to be drawn up another day. Ray wouldn't be able to avoid the inevitable questions forever. She deserved to know the truth about her mother.

Ray pulled out a chair and sat down at the small table. After placing his mug to the side, he set his elbows on its surface and rest his chin atop his fist. He recalled the first time he met Gemma…

_Having been legally emancipated for two years, Lee set himself up in a tiny apartment above a noodle shop in a seedier part of Hong Kong. With his rural village being a fair distance from the city, Ray visited his friend for days at a time. Only seventeen back then, he barely cared about life itself; it was a time to try anything at least once. The number of drugs that circulated through the back alleys sent him to another world. Being the only child of parents that trusted him with great lengths of independence was the greatest blessing Ray could ever be given. "They experimented with shit, too. I know it."_

_Though sometimes he regret being in a committed relationship with Lee's younger sister, Mariah. It didn't matter what he did, Ray was loyal to the girl, and that was only because his conscience was a defiant bitch. Sure, there were certain _advantages_ to having a steady girlfriend, but Ray expected the same kind of faithfulness from Mariah that he showered her with. It was a hard pill to swallow when she cheated on him…nine months ago. She was his first, and he wanted her to be his only. Ray still struggled to accept the truth and used his days with Lee as a way to numb the pain. Thinking about her made him sicker than out-drinking the boozer that lived next door._

"_Dude, give it up already. She slept with some other guy after she got a taste of the good life. Now come here and do a line with me."Lee shuffled an array of objects to clear part of the coffee table._

_Flat on his back on the floor in Lee's tiny living room, Ray stared at the ceiling. His worst habit was mumbling and ruminating about the past when the raven-haired teen was in this state. He was just coming down from one high on cheap weed and wasn't quite up to diving into another. Pushing his upper-body up, Ray leaned back on his elbows and looked at his friend. "Do you ever get the feeling that something big is gonna happen?"_

"_Don't you dare puke on the rug."_

"_No, you ass. Like…something really good."_

_Lee actually pondered the idea. His younger friend always said something that made him think. "I'd feel really good about a key to the Playboy Mansion. You'd get over my sister, too, if I ever let you borrow it."_

_Ray rolled his eyes. "She ruined me, Lee. I'm sticking to guys." No one but Lee knew of Ray's questioning sexuality. While he truly thought he fell in love with Mariah, there was something that just wasn't right. The young neko-jin summed it up to a curious desire to experiment with other guys; after her, girls just weren't enough._

"_Whatever floats your boat, Ray. Just don't be coming onto me."_

_They laughed it off. Coming from the same village, with only a few years of an age gap, Lee and Ray shared a close, brotherly bond; no matter what, they had each other's back. When there were two quick knocks on the door, the boys jumped to their feet to quietly hide all evidence of their habits. When they were assured that there was nothing obviously incriminating, Ray silently approached the door. He pressed his ear to the thick wood and waited. Nothing. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ray opened the door; he was relieved to find no one there…or so he thought._

_Hearing the tiniest cry, the teen looked down. At his feet, swaddled in a thick blanket, was a baby. Before touching the infant, Ray took the note that was placed on top of it. On the piece of paper was simply written, "She's yours now." Whatever side effects Ray was still under dissipated from his system and he instantly sobered. Carefully picking up the baby, he moved the blanket aside to see the child's face. Among the black head of hair, there was a natural stripe of pink. The child had fair skin, with a rounded face and tiny nose. A pair of eyes opened and gazed at Ray with bright, golden irises. His breath hitched the moment he locked eyes with the infant; he knew who this child belonged to, even though there was no birth certificate or any other documentation to solidify his firm certainty. Fact of the matter was: he got Mariah pregnant._

_Hearing Lee constantly ask what was going on, Ray turned around to face his friend with a baby cradled securely in his arms. His voice was quiet – laced with nervousness. "Lee…This is my daughter."_

_The elder of the duo was in shock, but the time to put two and two together wasn't now. A barrage of voices and pounding footsteps could be heard from the floor below them, and Lee knew exactly who it was. He demanded Ray to go out the window in his bedroom, down the fire escape, and run. Lee should have known better than to go looking for a good deal when the police had been going through the city with a fine-tooth comb in an attempt to reduce the recent spike in crime over drugs. "Clean up and do well for her sake, Ray. Don't let your little girl down."_

_With no time to argue, Ray fled the apartment with his newborn daughter. That night, Lee racked up a number of drug charges – alone._

_Winter was in full swing. He held the infant close to his chest to protect her from the chilling wind that whipped through the alley. The teen did all he could to soothe her cries before he started to cry himself. "Don't worry…Daddy will take care of you. I promise."_

…Nearly thirteen years later, that day still haunted was no help that his parents disowned him the moment he introduced Gemma to them. Revealing that he was positive Mariah was the mother was blasphemous, and still he was blamed for the whole ordeal. They thought the drugs would be something their son would give up, but parenthood was forever. Ray was almost tempted to send them a letter with his daughter's recent school picture, just to rub it in their faces.

He picked up his, now cold, cup of tea and put it in the microwave. Completely dumbfounded, the tattooist quietly laughed at his situation; it was one thing for his ex-boyfriend to resurface. But for his ex-_girlfriend_ to show up out of nowhere, on top of it? Ray was convinced he was tripping again. Thank the gods he didn't work on Sundays; he would definitely be sleeping in.

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**A/N: **I warned you... Frankly, I feel kinda guilty about this chapter, in a bad way. (Some) things get better; I promise!


	7. VII

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I can't thank you enough for all of your amazing support & incredibly generous reviews! Although, for as many people as I see actually reading I&G, I wish more would speak up. Please accept another apology for the long wait; I've been super busy preparing to leave for my 3rd year of college...abroad...in Japan. I had to make it my goal to get at least one more chapter out to you all because there will probably be a lengthy pause on I&G's progress after this. But...with everything I've had to do, my attention really slipped; I whole-heartedly believe that this chapter is not my best work, but there was no other way to write it & I didn't want to fill it with nonsense that didn't add to the story. So there's another apology for that. Regardless, I hope you still enjoy this.

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VII

Gemma begged him – pleaded her father, to go to conference night at school. She was adamant about giving her math teacher a stern talking to about that C- vicariously through her dad, but even more so, someone needed to teach that Mr. Hiwatari a lesson. The tattooist found it strange; normally, his daughter adored the subject, and even said her teacher was just as brilliant, albeit quite harsh most of the time. However, Gemma had been coming home with much less, ridiculously simpler, homework from the class. Ray wasn't very knowledgeable in world history, but he did manage to retain a few important names and dates. Ranging from fill-in-the-blank tasks to "critical thinking" questions at the end of each lesson in the textbook, Gemma flew through the work in minutes. The younger neko-jin didn't necessarily complain about having less assignments; she was more alerted by the fact that Mr. Hiwatari seemed…different.

"Everyone's been saying he's on drugs or something. I don't believe it. I think something happened." Gemma pushed her long hair out of her face as the wind picked up during their walk up the front path to the school's entrance. She was thankful that her uncle lent them his car for the night; while a commute from the Tiger's Den to school was a bus ride and a short walk away, it was simply quicker and more direct to go by car. That would be the next thing the girl coerced her dad to do – buy a damn car.

Upon entering, Gemma recited the short list of teachers and gave him a map of the school. Students weren't allowed to accompany parents to the conferences; besides, Gemma would rather spend the time chatting with her friends in the cafeteria than pushing Ray to convince her math teacher to change a grade. Before there was a chance to ask her for any strategic advice, the young girl dashed down one corridor and disappeared into the mess hall.

He should have known better. While his daughter was capable of taking care of a majority of her school matters, Ray could see why she struggled with this math class. From the elderly instructor, he got an earful about Gemma's performance. He could only smile and nod in understanding so many times. It seemed that Gemma couldn't quite grasp the concepts of geometry, but she managed to keep herself afloat with decent marks on her last tests. According to the cranky math teacher, it wouldn't be enough for the girl to pass the standardized regional testing in the spring. What bothered Ray the most was the teacher's lack of willingness to help his daughter. _Retirement must be just around the corner._ Although, he felt responsible for not being able to help his only child and it put a sour, guilty feeling in his stomach. Things like this made him regret dropping out of school, only to consequently work multiple jobs and take time away from his family.

After meeting the cause of Gemma's mathematical despair, Ray didn't want to make his headache worse. He felt bad for not being able to sway her teacher to reconsider and reevaluate her grade, but he wasted almost twenty minutes trying to get to the root of the problem; a lecture on the old woman's infallible teaching methods and state standards consumed most of his time. Gemma stood a better chance of passing for the rest of the year if Ray didn't make it worse, knowing he damn well could do just that. Politely, with a slight clench in his jaw, the neko-jin cut the conversation and excused himself to the next conference – with Mr. Hiwatari.

_That name is so familiar…I know it from somewhere._ On his way down the hall, the ebony-haired artist heard a number of complaints from other parents passing by; the name "Hiwatari" was mentioned too often for his linking. Ray wasn't sure what he was walking into, but he hoped there wasn't going to be a mob of pitchforks and torches. The tattooist stepped into the classroom, and while he wasn't totally shocked to see a small circle of parents, seeing a familiar head of dual-toned hair made his eyes go wide. Now he remembered! It was on the release form his client signed before his first tattoo session. "Kai…"

He should have known that leaving his flask home would do less of a service than bringing it to work. The history instructor did his best to keep his cool and answer the onslaught of questions. _No wonder these kids are such assholes…They get it from their parents. _The only consolation he offered to the anguished folks was a second look at their children's grades. After the quarterly review from the higher-ups, he was left with no other choice but to make some adjustments to his own grading values. Standing firm, arms crossed over his chest, Kai would not change his offer; there was little more he could say, except, "Your kids are incompetent, disrespectful bastards," but the teacher with the cabernet eyes bit his tongue.

One by one, each of Kai's current opponents threw in the towel and left the room, utterly defeated. He was simply too grounded in his decisions.

Kai turned to collect the files scattered across his desk. But there was just one left… "I'll tell you the same thing I just told them."

"Better you take out your frustration on me instead of my kid." Ray was leaning against the far wall. Upon capturing the attention of his client, the neko-jin grinned. He could see Kai's face relax when their gazes met. "You really gotta earn your keep around here, huh?" Removing himself from the wall, the artist approached his friend.

It truly was a relief to see a friendly face tonight; Kenny had been a little stand-offish lately and Max took time away from the café to do well on his finals. Ever since he took the dare to make a few changes in his life, Kai started to feel the distinctive effect of loneliness more than before. Although, in the back of his mind, the slate-haired man was worried that Ray was here to criticize his teaching methods, as well. "I've had worse days. So what can I do for you?"

Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Ray shrugged. "Gemma asked me to come here and talk to you."

"Oh yeah, I forgot she was your daughter. I see the resemblance, that's for sure. And she sure as hell is one of my best students. I can't imagine that she'd be struggling."

That boosted the tattooist's mood from his previous conference. "She's not. Gemma loves your class. But she is concerned about one thing…You."

Kai was taken aback by Ray's words. In all his years working for the school district, not a single soul really cared about his well-being; this was a first. "Gemma is quite perceptive. My health is perfectly fine, but she quickly noticed a change in the work. I could tell when the other kids were thrilled to have significantly less to do, Gemma was confused. Glad to know _someone _appreciated the challenge."

"We're a couple of honest working men, Kai. You know as well as I do that it takes a shit-ton of effort to get something meaningful out of life. Glad my kid sees that too." The tattooist took out a lighter from his pocket. He fiddled with the device to avoid Kai's watchful stare.

Kai found it endearing that the ebony-haired artist took notice of his work ethic. However, the teacher adored Ray's nervous habit more. He felt a risky sensation swell in his chest. With nothing else to say, Kai stood in front of Ray and gently slid the lighter out of the tattooist's fingers. The first time their hands ever touched, Kai detected the strength in Ray's grip, but this time, he took notice of the warmth coming from Ray's calloused flesh. It clashed with the chill of his own skin.

Letting the lighter fall to the floor, the slate-haired laced his fingers with Ray's and closed the gap between them. Their eyes met for a second time that evening – not as a challenge for power, but a request for unity. Magnetically, the two were pulled together in a searing kiss. Like a match soaked in gasoline, their shameless passions were set ablaze and the world around them was long-forgotten.

Kai's hands traveled away from Ray's yielding grasp and encircled the neko-jin's waist, effectively pulling him closer. The impulse to be so forward was highly uncharacteristic of the Russian; it defied every fiber of his cold and calculated persona. It defied the norm. His body reacted addictively to the warmth coming from the tattooist's body being so close to him. And it craved more. Kai took pride in being naturally dominant, but being privy to a vague idea of the discontent in Ray's past, he wasn't sure just how far to go. However, with no resistance from the other, Kai reinforced his grip and urged himself to be bolder. The tip of his tongue ghosted across the edge of Ray's lower lip.

The tattooist responded with a fang-toothed smirk, but no immediate consent was granted. Much like a cat, he wanted to play with this opportunity – to keep Kai wanting more. Tracing the outline of Kai's abs, Ray's hands swept upward to nonchalantly grasp the material of the navy blue shirt that restricted his access to the Russian's chest. The sensation of Kai's manhood against his lower body was enthralling. He found it difficult to keep his emotions from running wild in order to keep up this almost-unobtainable front. While Ray wanted to please Kai, he switched gears to take advantage of the moment for his own selfish desires; his prey was right before him. The neko-jin tenderly bit Kai's lip, earning him a surprised groan from his temporary lover. The sound of the teacher's deep voice caused Ray's sensitive ears to perk, and frankly, he took pleasure in the noise. This was his chance.

Ray's tongue slipped into Kai's mouth – left unguardedly agape after uttering his approval of the tattooist's moves. Oral muscles entwined, Ray pressed his hands further up Kai's chest and eventually came to rest around his neck. The initial lust softened, yet a dynamic, affectionate longing for each other remained.

The Russian could barely tear his attention from the red-hot indulgence to check for any unwanted intrusions. But to settle his conscience, Kai had to break their kiss. _Fucking oxygen…_ Peering over to see a closed classroom door was a welcomed sight. Being closer to Kai's desk ensured they wouldn't be seen right away – not that the instructor really cared, and he was sure Ray wasn't very worried about their location either.

Concerned about where Kai's sight landed, Ray toyed with the dark hair at the base of Kai's neck. "Something wrong?"

The slate-haired kept his arms around the neko-jin's midsection. "No. Just paranoid. The school probably wouldn't approve of this, but it would be excellent gossip at the next department meeting." He turned his merlot gaze back to the amber-eyed tattooist. With an insignificant difference in height, Kai rest his forehead against the Ray's and kissed him lightly once more. He inhaled the scents of cigarettes and a clean tattoo shop that still lingered on the artist; it was soothing – a complete distraction from the discomfort of the healing tattoo outline on his back.

Despite how comfortable he was, embraced in Kai's arms, the obsidian-haired male knew he had to go. "Gemma's probably waiting for me." Ray eased himself away from Kai and started for the way out. He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder before departing. "How about dinner on Saturday? Before your next round of ink?"

"It's a date."

xXx

It was only a matter of time before he had what he wanted. The trainees would make his job, and his mission, that much easier. They were fresh meat – highly susceptible to brainwashing. Excellent. The last crew that was dispatched to his unit barely made it through basic training; this time around, he had to take a completely different approach. The best option: grunt work. That meant someone else would get their hands dirty.

The squad room at the back of the police barracks was last on the list for renovation, but it served for his purpose. Ignoring the flickering fluorescent light in a row installed on the ceiling, the officer had his feet propped on the desk in front of him – arms crossed over his chest, and sharply eyeing the novice that stood on the other side of it. "Are you sure you can do this? I'm not sure I can trust you."

"If it means a full-time job with a salary, I'll do the work." The trainee bowed his head to his superior; there was something about the officer he was placed with that was a little more than slightly off. The same went for the other newbie, who was currently M.I.A. Thankful for the opportunity his community college offered, Tyson wasn't so sure if a career in law enforcement was the best route for him. It was yet another decision he made against his friends' advice to do something he loved instead of something that was a guaranteed paycheck.

"Good." Sitting up, the lead officer leaned into the light. His vibrant, red hair cast a shadow that resembled a devil more than a human being. "First thing you'll learn is that appearances can be deceiving." He pulled a weighty file from a drawer and slapped it on the desktop.

"What's this?"

"Suspect file, dumbass. This one has some rep."

Tyson opened the manila folder. He could only remember the stories his criminology instructors told about deviants that racked up a high profile in the system, but the new recruit never expected to see one in his first week. His breath got caught in his throat upon seeing the mug shot at the top of the small pile of records; Tyson had to do a double-take, hoping his mind was just playing a cruel joke. He didn't want to believe the image in front of his face – an unaltered photo of a criminally disturbed Ray. The dark-haired trainee looked to his superior, then back at the file, shuffling through each page to dig deeper into a darker side of the cook's past that he didn't necessarily want the details to. Multiple counts of theft – some more hostile than others. Distribution and possession of a controlled substance. One charge for prostitution. Among a collection of misdemeanors, including a shockingly recent vandalism charge, this was making Tyson's head spin. "Tala…why..?"

The redheaded cop chuckled darkly. "There's nothing like a repeat offender to make an example."

* * *

**A/N:** Told ya so...not the best, but now we start to dig into Tala's...deranged role in this story.


End file.
